


Puzzle Box

by Byhookorbicrook



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Edward Nygma, Blow Jobs, Bottom Oswald Cobblepot, Chief of Staff Edward Nygma, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay Oswald Cobblepot, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, Nygmobblepot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riddlebird - Freeform, They might switch, Top Edward Nygma, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byhookorbicrook/pseuds/Byhookorbicrook
Summary: Season 3, Episode 5--Oswald and Ed are on the sofa, but this time it's actually gay (we were unfairly robbed of the Riddler's blatant bisexuality and that's that on that)
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/The Riddler
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	Puzzle Box

Oswald’s hands were shaking while he poured Ed a fresh cup of tea. He’d made it himself, which was unusual; normally Oswald Cobblepot wouldn’t busy himself with something as trivial as brewing tea, but this time it had to be perfect. He didn’t trust his household staff to make it just the way Ed liked it, and he knew _exactly_ how Ed liked it. Oswald stirred in a touch of cream and a dollop of honey. Ed liked things sweet. 

Despite the limp in his right leg, Oswald didn’t spill a drop on his way from the kitchen to the parlor. He _almost_ dropped the cup and saucer when he saw Ed on the sofa, though, lounging in his undershirt and pajamas with Oswald’s brocade dressing gown draped around him. It was too short on him, but it fit him well in the shoulders. Almost perfectly, in fact. The cut of it accentuated how lean and elegant he looked, and that was enough to set Oswald’s mind racing. He tried his best not to admire the other man for too long. He didn’t want the tea to get cold. 

He handed the saucer over and then slid onto the sofa at Ed’s side. 

Oswald watched his friend take a sip, taking pride in the grateful smile that flickered across Ed’s face. Ed still coughed every time he tried to speak, but that only encouraged him to whisper, which Oswald found almost irresistible. 

“I hope you know, Oswald,” Ed said softly over the crackle of the fire on the hearth. “I would do anything for you.”

 _Anything_. That sounded too good to be true; Oswald wanted more than anything to believe it. When he looked into Ed’s eyes, he almost _did_ believe it. There was something deeper there than there’d been before. 

“You can always count on me,” said Ed, leaning into him, close enough to kiss. He cleared his throat again, trying not to cough. All it did was draw more attention to his lips. It wasn’t the first time that Oswald had been this close to Ed, but it _was_ the first time that he found himself wishing that he could kiss him. He managed to stop himself by going for a hug instead, sinking into the warmth of Ed’s arms and clinging to him like a drowning man grasping at a lone piece of driftwood. It felt amazing; Ed _smelled_ amazing, like ginger tea and old books, and Oswald could feel the other man’s hands coiling around his waist to pull him closer. 

“You can count on me, too,” Oswald offered, a little bit too eagerly, laughing awkwardly in between the words. “For anything! Anything you want. I’d—I’d tear apart Gotham for you, if you asked me to. Just say the word.”

He felt Ed smile against his shoulder. There was something sinister about the way that Ed’s hands grasped at his coat to pull him tight. They’d been hugging for too long; Oswald knew that, but chalked it up to the fact that Ed had always been bad at social cues and gestures of affection. That was all it was. At least, that’s what Oswald told himself while he tried to convince his own heartbeat to slow down. 

“I may be strong, but I can be broken, and though I beat daily, I inflict no pain,” Ed said lyrically, in that sing-song voice that he used every time he quoted a brain teaser. “What am I?”

“Um,” said Oswald. He’d never been any good at riddles. “Inefficient mob enforcer?”

“Is that your final answer?”

“You—you know I can never figure these out, Ed, I—”

“—The heart,” Ed told him with a chuckle and a cough, pushing him away to arm’s length and smiling. He gave Oswald a short, friendly little pat on the chest. “Yours is pounding. But there’s nothing to be anxious about. I’m fine, really. Butch didn’t do any lasting damage, no need to worry.”

“Oh. I mean, it’s not that,” Oswald started. 

“What is it, then?”

“Uh, pardon?”

“What is it, then?” Ed repeated robotically. “If it’s not that, then it must be something just as pressing. Mayoral business? Anything you need my help with?”

 _So much_ , Oswald thought to himself. “Nope. No, I think—I mean, unless—”

“Unless what?”

Oswald froze, unsure of what to say. He’d been emboldened by the hug and by the sight of Ed wearing his dressing gown, and now Ed’s hands on his shoulders felt too warm and too tempting to stand. When he tried to speak, he fumbled over his words and got lost watching the firelight flicker in the lenses of Ed’s glasses. 

“I, um. Just—well.”

“Oswald,” Ed said, narrowing his eyes, leaning in closer. Now Oswald could see the manic spark of devotion that lit up in Ed’s face. “I said _anything_.”

“Really?”

“Anything at all.”

“—Then kiss me.” It was impossible not to blurt it out, and Oswald regretted it immediately when he saw confusion creep across Ed’s face. 

“I mean—or not,” he stammered, petrified that he’d been too forward with his request. He tried desperately to backpedal. It was no use, though; he could see Ed’s shoulders slouching and his brows furrowing, and then he felt the other man’s fingers slide away from his shoulders. “Nevermind. Ed, forget I said anything, I—”

Suddenly Ed’s hands were on him again, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and pulling him in close. When Ed kissed him it was awkward and impulsive at first, as if he were trying to get it over with before he lost his nerve, but after the initial shock had faded, he settled into it. He tugged Oswald tight against his body and then kissed him slowly, almost indulgently. 

Ed was bolder than Oswald had expected. _That_ felt incredible. His hands were firm and insistent, impossible to resist. They tightened into the fabric of Oswald’s lapels and guided him deeper into every touch, forcing him against Ed’s body and then down into the cushions of the elegant sofa as Ed leaned into him. They were both halfway horizontal by the time Ed finally broke away.

“Sorry,” he said hastily, sounding less confident than his mouth and his hands had suggested. “I—was that—? I’ve never—”

“It was fine,” Oswald managed in a squeak of a voice. _Fine_ was an understatement, but he didn’t want to sound too impressed, or too needy. 

Ed chuckled and cast his eyes away bashfully, pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose and then leaning in again, looming over Oswald with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Never done _that_ before,” he said, sounding surprised at himself. “Never thought I would.”

“Do what?”

“Kiss another man.”

“Was it so different?” Oswald asked. “Seems like it would be just about the same as kissing anyone else, doesn’t it?”

“Hm. Definitely different.”

Ed’s lips pressed against him again, even slower this time, even more savoring. Oswald could practically _feel_ the other man taking notes, comparing data points in his head with whatever other kisses he had stored away in his memory banks. It felt odd being part of the calculation; Oswald felt like a variable, like a number tossed into an equation, as if he were just part of an experiment Ed was running in his head. Still, he couldn’t deny how _nice_ it felt to kiss him. Oswald couldn’t stop himself from responding to it, especially when Ed’s hands moved to his face and pulled him in deeper, encouraging him to open his mouth for Ed’s inquisitive tongue. 

“ _Mm_ ,” Ed murmured against his lips, breaking away again. “Interesting.”

“You don’t like it,” said Oswald, fearing the worst, his face lighting up with panic. “Let’s forget about it. We can—we can stop, I’ll get you a fresh cup of tea, and…”

“Oswald. It’s alright,” Ed told him. He ran one hand experimentally through the shock of spiky black hair on Oswald’s head. It felt strange and new; Ed had only ever done this with Kristen, and Oswald’s hair was so much shorter than hers. His mouth was less pliable than hers, too, but just as soft and just as eager. Maybe even _more_ eager. He could feel Oswald shaking underneath him, and he tried to still the other man’s body by pressing him down into the cushions with gentle hands. 

“It’s alright,” he repeated. He leaned in to brush his lips over Oswald’s again and felt the other man’s breath shiver. “I’d do anything for you, Oswald. Like I said.” 

“A-anything?” Oswald said hesitantly.

“Anything at all. Just say the word.”

“I’d never want to ask you to do anything you didn’t—”

“ _Anything_ , Oswald,” Ed said in a low, forceful voice. It drew a shaky little laugh out of Oswald, but Ed’s hands put a stop to that quickly enough. They crept to the back of the other man’s neck and pulled him into another of Ed’s explorative kisses. 

Oswald couldn’t contain his excitement. He didn’t want to look like he’d been _dreaming_ about this, even though he had, in the very back of his mind; he couldn’t count the number of times that he’d imagined Ed’s arms winding around him like this. It was just as sweet as it had been in his imagination. Ed was terribly warm, heated up by the fire and the brocade dressing gown and all of the kisses, and his slender body felt amazing against Oswald’s own. He shifted on the sofa and with a few firm touches he convinced Oswald to readjust underneath. His hands found Oswald’s bad leg and moved it gently, tucking it comfortably between the back of the sofa and his own body as he settled in between the other man’s legs. 

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, in a softer voice than Oswald had been expecting.

“I—I don’t want anything. I mean, I want _everything_ ,” Oswald said hungrily, clutching at his own dressing gown on the other man’s body to pull Ed closer. “I _see_ you, Ed. The way you really are, the man you _really_ are. That’s all I want. Just you.” 

“Even I don’t know the man I _really_ am.”

“I do. _I_ do,” Oswald insisted. His laughter came out more frenzied than he meant it to, more flustered and anxious. He tried to cover it up by pushing his hands underneath the dressing gown to press them up against Ed’s heart. He could feel it beating, thrumming, the same way it did every time Ed talked about killing. “I know you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you. You don’t have to hide anything, don’t have to hold anything back—”

This moment those words left his mouth, he saw something change in Ed’s face; it grew darker, and the smile that ghosted over Ed’s lips turned cold and cruel. Oswald didn’t just witness the change, he _felt_ it. Ed’s body loomed dangerously over his own. His hands found Oswald’s hips and gave him one sharp tug, forcing him flat against the cushions, and when his mouth found the other man’s lips again, Oswald felt nothing but teeth behind the insatiable smile. 

Oswald moaned into it, unable to keep quiet; he had been expecting more hesitation, but he was glad to see Ed give in so quickly to his own ferocity. That was what he’d always liked best about Ed, after all—how cunning and cruel he was. No one else in the city matched Oswald the way that he did. They were made for one another. Right now, it felt like they _belonged_ together. 

He felt Ed’s hands creeping around his neck and tightening, and that only made him respond more eagerly. For a few moments it felt like Ed wasn’t going to stop. It felt like he would go all the way, like he did with Kristin Kringle. His body was flush against Oswald’s by now and he was losing his grip on the kiss _and_ on his mind; his lips kept breaking away from Oswald to let out fits of quiet, uncontrollable laughter. 

Just when Oswald thought that he would have to beg for it to stop, he felt Ed’s grip shift. It didn’t soften, but his hands moved from Oswald’s throat to his chin and forced his head back down into the cushions. 

“Tell me what you want, Oswald,” he said, in a voice that was little more than a growl. “This?”

“I— _yes_ ,” Oswald breathed. 

He watched Ed smile down at him. Ed’s grip on his jaw was just as tempting as the mischievous light in his eyes. 

“Your life in my hands,” Ed murmured, forcing Oswald’s head to one side and leaning in to whisper into his ear. “That’s what you like.”

“They, um. They—seem like capable hands.”

“Mm.”

“Kind of exhilarating,” Oswald admitted breathlessly. “Knowing how you, ahh—killed the last person you kissed.”

“Indeed,” said Ed. He was scanning Oswald with his eyes, calculating his next move with grace and precision. “Worth the risk?”

“No risk.”

“You sound confident.”

“You’d never hurt me. You believe in me, Ed. Like no one else ever has,” Oswald said, letting his hands slide over Ed’s slender shoulders. He felt Ed lean into it, watched Ed’s head dip down to kiss one of his wrists. “More than I believe in myself. I don’t know where I’d be without you, I’d trust you with anything. Anything at all.”

“Trust me right _now_ , then,” Ed demanded. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

He let his hands explore, slipping them away from Oswald’s face and up underneath the dark silk of his coat. It felt so _different_ than touching Kristen. He wasn’t used to it, and the learning curve was steep, but he _liked_ it. The way that Oswald trembled with excitement at his touch was intoxicating; when he grazed his lips over Oswald’s, he even liked feeling the hitch of the other man’s breath. 

“You’ll have to forgive my inexperience. But I’m good at putting together clues,” he said, pushing at Oswald’s jacket until the other man shrugged it off and threw it to the floor. “A few hints and I’ll be golden.”

“You were always quick to figure out new puzzles,” Oswald noted. He thought back fondly on all the intricate brain teasers he’d brought to Ed in Arkham, and how Ed had solved them all in seconds. He’d studied each and every one, tested their machinations, and then worked the pieces deftly to completion—Oswald could already _feel_ Ed doing the same thing to him, studying him with his eyes and his hands, measuring every response. Completion was inevitable, especially if it was a little bit of a challenge. People were the most interesting puzzle boxes, and Ed had never gotten into one quite like Oswald before. 

“Over or under,” Ed murmured, half to himself, his fingers smoothly undoing the buttons of Oswald’s waistcoat. He pressed his lips against Oswald’s ear to say, “You strike me as more of an _under_ type. Right or wrong?”

Oswald tried to hold back a nervous peal of laughter, but he failed. He offered up an exaggerated, lackadaisical shrug and said, “You got me there!”

“Mm. Makes it easier,” said Ed, calculating his strategy. “Less effort on my part.”

“I still expect some effort.” 

“I said _less_ , not _none_.”

“So precise.”

“You deserve the benefit of my precision,” Ed said with a wicked smile. “Only the best for you, _Mayor_ Cobblepot.”

 _That_ turned Oswald on more than he’d been expecting. He bit down into his bottom lip in impatient anticipation while Ed pulled the pin out of his tie and then undid the knot with slow, methodical fingers. He could feel Ed’s lips at his neck, still grazing over the skin, as if Ed weren’t _quite_ ready to solve the puzzle yet. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d do anything,” Oswald managed when Ed’s lips finally pressed an experimental kiss against his jaw. He tried to give a clue, to hint at how much he _loved_ that by clutching at Ed’s shoulders for dear life, and that prompted Ed to keep up the treatment. Soon he was pushing the envelope, letting his lips and his teeth pull greedily at Oswald’s skin. 

“No,” Ed noted keenly. “I wasn’t kidding.”

“No hickeys except for—under the collar,” Oswald stammered, surprised that he was even saying those words to his chief of staff. “I’m the Mayor of Gotham, I have a reputation to uphold, after all.” 

“Sounds like you’re giving permission.”

“Enthusiastically,” Oswald confirmed, squirming into the sofa cushions while Ed worked the buttons of his collar loose and pushed the fabric out of his way. It only took a second for his lips to find purchase, and soon Oswald could feel him applying delicious, deliberate pressure to the skin. He hadn’t expected Ed to give him a harsh nip afterwards, but he loved it; he couldn’t resist letting out a sharp little sound of delight. 

Ed liked that sound. Sounds were easy clues to follow. Sounds told him what Oswald enjoyed, just as much as Oswald’s body writhing with need underneath him did. Besides, there was something charming about hearing the other man respond to his attention. It made him feel like he was doing well, like he was doing something right. Ed _loved_ being right. There was nothing more gratifying than that. 

He finished with the other man’s buttons and ran his hands down the exposed line of skin with an air of curiosity. It felt good to touch Oswald, even though he wasn’t a woman. Ed had never been with another man, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he was enjoying it so much. Maybe it had something to do with the soft, hushed sounds that Oswald made every time Ed’s lips or fingers brushed over an especially sensitive patch of skin. 

“I’m not usually very impulsive, except when it comes to murder,” Ed said, trailing his lips down to Oswald’s chest and pushing the fabric of his shirt out of the way for better access. “You are, though. Brash, reckless, emotional.”

“Hey!”

“—Compliments,” Ed clarified. “Compliments and observations, nothing more. They’re good qualities. They make you who you are. They make you savvy, unpredictable. A force to be reckoned with.”

“Come on now, Ed, you’re gonna make me blush,” Oswald complained, in a voice that begged Ed to go on. 

“All this to say that _you_ are probably more inclined toward impulsive behavior than I am. So,” said Ed, letting his lips ghost down over the soft, pale skin of Oswald’s stomach. “I’ll let you tell me where to stop, since you’re the expert.”

“Oh. Well, um,” Oswald started. “Maybe that’s—I mean, maybe you’d rather just—stop wherever you feel most comfortable stopping?”

“Oswald.”

“Edward?”

Ed lifted his head and met Oswald’s eyes with a cool, collected little frown that Oswald couldn’t resist. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Oswald swallowed hard, and tried not to think about all the things that he _wanted_ Ed to do for him— _to_ him—right now. Ed’s attentive hands had come to rest at Oswald’s hips, and he was hovering dangerously close to the waistband of Oswald’s pants. His eyes were cold and unreadable behind the lenses of his glasses. 

Oswald was anxious, mostly concerned that he had overstepped and that Ed would regret all of this in the morning. He opened his mouth to say something to put a stop to it, but Ed shook his head and moved in to press a finger against his lips. 

“You’re worried. Don’t be,” he insisted. 

“I’m not worried! I mean, not on my _own_ behalf, I guess,” Oswald explained hesitantly, trying not to focus too much on the way that Ed’s fingertips lingered against his lips. “Just wouldn’t want to do anything that’ll—weigh on you, you know? Like you said, you’re not exactly one for impulsive decisions, and I wouldn’t want you to feel like you _had_ to—”

“Trust doesn’t come naturally to you, does it?”

“Not exactly,” Oswald admitted, awkward and a little bit apologetic. He swallowed hard, and felt Ed’s fingers drifting down to his throat again. “But I _do_ trust you. I do. I just wouldn’t want—”

“—Oswald.” Ed’s grip around his throat tightened comfortably, cozily. It was all too easy to lean into. “Trust me.”

“You promise? Promise you won’t regret—”

“—I can only be kept once I’ve been given to someone else. What am I?” 

Oswald wasn’t good at riddles, but this was an easy one, and Ed was smiling so close to his lips now that he couldn’t deny the answer. “Guess I’ll take that to mean you promise.”

“Right answer.” Ed’s smile was undeniably pleased. “You’re getting better at the riddles. Still not great, but better.”

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Ed’s laugh was only a _little_ bit unhinged, only a _little_ bit mad, and he tightened his grip excitedly around Oswald’s neck to bring him closer, kissing him again. It was brief and affectionate this time, and Oswald liked feeling Ed’s tight-lipped smile against him afterwards. 

“Rubbing off on you?” Ed said with a soft, lingering laugh, pressing his body up against Oswald’s. He pinned the other man down with his weight and moved his hips experimentally. The desperate sound that Oswald let out in response only widened the grin on Ed’s face. “Suppose it’s only fair that I rub you off, then.”

“That’s not—not even good wordplay,” Oswald protested. Still, even despite it, he pulled Ed in close by the collar with insistent hands. He’d waited a long time for this, thought about it on countless occasions, and he was determined to make the most of Ed’s willing participation. 

“You’re right. My wordplay’s lacking tonight,” Ed admitted. “Thankfully I can think of…about thirty-three more useful things to do with my mouth.” 

“That many?”

“Mm. Up to thirty-six now.”

“No wonder you’re the smart one,” Oswald breathed, trying to stifle his own ambitious laughter when Ed’s hips rolled into him again, even more skillfully. “Wonder what that makes me.”

“The pretty one.”

“Flatterer.”

“Flattery was one of the thirty-six things,” said Ed. He smirked and said, “Better get on to the other thirty-five.”

Oswald grasped at him eagerly and then felt Ed’s lips at his collarbone. It was baffling what a quick learner he was—it felt like he’d just read a dossier on exactly how Oswald liked to be touched. Even though Ed’s pace was slower than anything Oswald was used to, he found that he didn’t mind it. It made him feel like Ed cared about him, like all Ed wanted to do was please him and prove his sincerity. Most of the time Ed’s hands and lips felt so gentle that it didn’t seem fair, but every now and again, something dark and insistent washed over him; his laughter would take a turn for the worse, and his hands would get bolder in their exploration. Oswald couldn’t quite tell which version of Ed he liked better. 

It didn’t take Ed long to force the other man’s shirt and waistcoat off. He could feel that _darker_ part of himself taking over as his lips and teeth traversed Oswald’s soft, pale skin. Oswald felt just as _fragile_ as Kristin Kringle had on the night that Ed choked her to death, but he welcomed every bit of Ed’s affectionate cruelty with eager kisses and quiet words of praise whispered under his breath. Ed hadn’t expected to find the other man strangely beautiful underneath all the layers of clothing, but he _was_ ; he was slight and soft, not quite as lean as Ed was—nicer to the touch. Everything about his body was indicative of how much he enjoyed luxury. Ed trailed his fingertips over the delicate skin of Oswald’s belly, circling an absentminded, invisible question mark around the other man’s navel before letting his fingers drift lower. 

He heard the other man make a sound when he undid the top button of Oswald’s pants, something between terror and excitement. Ed wouldn’t have known what to make of it if he hadn’t felt Oswald’s grip on him tighten with need. That was enough of an indication to continue, though, and the sounds only grew more eager as Ed’s fingers slid the zipper down deftly and then pushed the black pinstripe fabric aside. 

Ed had never done this before. He didn’t even know _what_ to do, really, but there was a part of him that did—that darker part, the one that had always been more confident, more aggressive. He tried to lean into it, tried to summon it while he tugged down the waistband of Oswald’s pants and looked him in the eye to search for any sign of hesitation. The frenzied excitement that he saw written across Oswald’s face was enough to bring that dark side out in full force. He tugged the trousers down and freed the other man’s erection, taking pride in the desperate little gasp that Oswald let out. 

“Interesting,” Ed murmured, hesitating for a second. His gaze flickered back up to Oswald’s again as if he were searching for another clue. 

“You don’t _have_ to—” Oswald started. He bit his lip to stifle the rest of the sentence when Ed hushed him sharply and effectively. 

“Nothing I can’t figure out,” he said with a dark, disarming smirk. His hands were still tentative and uncertain, but they traced their way up Oswald’s thighs and then settled between his legs to feel out the trim dark hair there. It only took Ed a moment to figure out whether his heart rate had spiked due to discomfort or excitement; the spark of devotion lighting up in Oswald’s eyes made him feel warm somewhere deep inside, confirming that it _was_ excitement after all, and that emboldened him to go further. 

He let one of his hands find the root of Oswald’s cock and examined the reaction. Oswald gasped in a quick, shallow breath, trying his best to encourage Ed’s touches with grasping hands and an overeager laugh. It did the trick; soon Ed was trailing his index finger up the underside of Oswald’s erection to test the sensitivity of every inch. 

Oswald couldn’t keep himself quiet. Ed’s other hand held him down firmly by the hips, pressing him into the cushions. He liked the wicked way that Ed was smiling, and the soft curve of Ed’s lips. He couldn’t stop thinking about what they would _feel_ like, if things went that far—and judging by the way Ed was examining him, his head cocked to one side with keen interest, things certainly would. It felt like Ed was teasing him, but he didn’t mind. He was happy enough to feel Ed touching him at all, and more than willing to go at whatever pace the other man wanted. Besides, he knew how much Ed loved games and teasers; it was only fair to let him have his fun. 

Ed’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Oswald.”

“Hh—mff?” 

“About those other thirty-five things,” Ed said, his voice low and contemplative. His fingers abandoned Oswald’s erection and then moved to massage his hips, pushing him down again. Oswald let out a sharp sound when he felt Ed’s nails dig in. He looked up with desperation in his eyes, and Ed waited until he heard another whimper escape Oswald’s lips before saying, “Pick a number between one and thirty-five.”

“Edward—”

“Pick a number.”

“You already know what I want,” Oswald managed. He stifled another anxious laugh when he felt Ed’s grip tighten. “Doesn’t matter to me which number you want to start with—”

“Pick. A number,” Ed repeated more forcefully. 

“—Six,” said Oswald without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Final answer?”

“Yes. Or—maybe eight,” Oswald stammered, panicking briefly when he saw Ed’s mischievous smile twitch. “Nope, six, final answer, six.”

Ed leaned in close and said, “Good choice.”

His lips were teasing a path down the front of Oswald’s body half a second later, and that was almost enough to make Oswald beg him to speed things up—every touch felt more tempting than the last, and he could hardly stand it. By the time Ed’s lips brushed past his navel, Oswald would have begged for anything. He would’ve given up anything he possessed, would’ve handed over all of Gotham if that was what it took to feel those lips where he wanted them most. 

He tried to relax, but that was impossible with the tremor of excitement running through him. All he could do was watch. He saw Ed slip off his glasses and set them aside, and even though it was a small gesture, it told him that this was _really_ happening; that Ed didn’t have any lingering doubts. 

He almost lost his composure entirely when Ed’s head dipped down again, because this time Ed’s lips parted in anticipation first before meeting the head of Oswald’s waiting cock. At first it felt experimental and awkward—Ed didn’t have any experience with this particular activity, and his first few motions were designed more to gather data than to drive Oswald wild. That was fine, though; Oswald was already lighting up at the sight of Ed between his legs and the heat of the other man’s mouth. 

Ed was assessing everything. He wanted to take in every detail. The size and shape of Oswald’s cock and the sensation of it warming his lips were simple details, easy to keep track of. But there were a hundred more that he wanted to lock down while he had the chance; the way that Oswald’s hips trembled at his touch, the fact that his fingers knotted tightly into the brocade of the dressing gown in desperation, even the way Oswald’s body arched back into the fine upholstery of the sofa. Ed had expected more discomfort on his own part, or at least confusion, but all he felt was his heart rate spiking and his brain going a mile a minute to take in the new information. It was _easy_ , once he’d gotten his bearings. All he had to do was pay attention and follow the clues. There were _plenty_ of clues. Every time he let his tongue ghost over the underside of the other man’s cock, he heard Oswald bite back a sound of enjoyment. When he took Oswald’s dick deeper into his mouth, he could feel the other man tense up underneath him and writhe against the cushions. It felt good to be in control like this; Ed took particular pride in that sense of control when he thought about _who_ he had in his mouth right now. Oswald was well-liked and powerful. He was a criminal mastermind, feared and beloved by the criminal gangs and citizens of Gotham City alike, and now here he was, completely at Ed’s mercy. It probably felt good to be the King of Gotham, Ed thought, but it felt even better to hear the King of Gotham moan your name; that was the most gratifying clue of them all. 

“You’re—surprisingly good at this,” Oswald managed through his teeth, still baffled by the fact that it was happening at all. He closed his eyes to savor every sensation more closely. The initial uncertainty in Ed’s motions had faded away. Now his hands were clutching eagerly at Oswald’s hips, his lips working the shaft as if that would be enough to prove his devotion for a lifetime. It hadn’t taken his tongue long to figure out what to do and where to stroke, and Oswald loved being on the receiving end of Ed’s keen, careful attention—it made him feel like he was on top of the world. He let his fingers weave affectionately through Ed’s hair and heard the other man let out a soft sound of appreciation. Ed’s lips slipped away from him but lingered at the head of his cock, laying a few carefully plotted kisses there. 

“Edward,” Oswald breathed, dragging his fingers through Ed’s hair and then tightening them to yank him closer. Ed winced a little through his smile. He let Oswald pull him up into a slow but surprisingly controlling kiss. He couldn’t help but put up a brief tussle for dominance, even despite the fingers tugging insistently at his hair, but Oswald didn’t give in until he heard Ed growl his name under his breath. 

“Say it again,” he insisted, letting both hands slide down Ed’s neck and over the front of the dressing gown. “ _Say_ it.”

“Anything for you, Oswald. _Anything_.”

Oswald could feel his own hands trembling with excitement, with the frenetic energy of finally having Ed at his disposal like this. He let himself get lost in the darkness that he saw in Ed’s eyes. It felt like a perfect mirror of his own. 

“We should finish this upstairs,” he said, convinced by the cunning gleam that he could see reflected in Ed’s eyes without the glasses. 

“No,” said Ed. 

He pushed Oswald down, ignoring the little flare of indignation that lit up in Oswald’s face and the way that the other man’s grip on his hair tightened. When Oswald opened his mouth to say something inevitably snide, Ed silenced him with another drawn-out kiss and then said, “You know me, Oswald, I don’t leave anything half-finished. I’m nothing if not _thorough_. Besides, you already picked a number; have to wait until I’m done before you pick another.”

“I—assumed based on your response that _six_ was blowjob,” Oswald sputtered. 

“Six was _swallow_ ,” Ed told him, patting him firmly on the cheek with a curt little grin. “Seven was spit. Told you it was a good choice.”

He didn’t wait for Oswald to let go of his hair before lowering his head again to finish what he’d started. He expected Oswald to complain about his disobedience, knowing how much Oswald liked being catered to, but the other man only offered up a sharp, desperate gasp in response once Ed’s lips found his erection again. 

Ed put every bit of information he had gleaned from the first experiment into practice. It was even easier this time, with Oswald clutching at the back of his skull for dear life. He liked the fact that he could hear Oswald’s breath hitching unevenly and occasional bouts of ecstatic, hysterical laughter coming out of him—more than that, he liked that every now and again Oswald gasped out the words, “—Edward, _yes_ —!” 

He liked solving puzzles in record time, and this one was no exception. Oswald already knew that Ed’s mind was the sharpest of any in Gotham, and Ed had every intention of proving that his tongue was the sharpest, too. He was committed now, and he was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself. The desperate sounds coming out of Oswald were more gratifying than anything Ed had heard from him before, and he even liked the fullness and the warmth of the organ between his lips. It was _different_ , but it wasn’t _bad_ at all; he was already learning to have fun with it, which was even easier to do with Oswald’s breath quickening dangerously in response to the work of his tongue. Oswald’s fingernails scraped into the back of his head as if it were a warning. 

“Edward,” he managed in a thin, strained voice. “Ed, I’m— _so_ close.”

That was everything Ed wanted to hear. He focused his efforts, paying special attention to all of the spots that had driven the loudest noises from between Oswald’s lips. Before long Oswald’s hips were shaking uncontrollably, and Ed had to hold him down to keep them steady.

Oswald actually _shouted_ Ed’s name when it happened, loudly enough to fill half the manor with the echo. He couldn’t think of _anything_ in his life that felt better than Ed finishing him off. It was sudden and terribly intense, and he clung to Ed for those few seconds as if the other man were the only thing he’d ever cared for. It was over too soon; Ed’s lips slipped away, and Oswald was already aching to feel them against him again, somewhere, _anywhere_. He dug his fingers into the gold brocade dressing gown to bring the other man closer and felt Ed settle comfortably against him with a soft, affectionate smile.

Ed actually _had_ swallowed, which was honestly as much of a surprise to him as it was to Oswald, given that he’d barely even known what he was getting himself into. He felt proud of that. He liked the fact that he’d followed the rules of his own game to the letter. Underneath of him, Oswald’s breath was still heaving. His eyes were still closed, his mouth half-open in a lazy, blissed out grin. He pawed at Ed’s body with both hands until he managed to wrap his arms around the other man’s waist, then snuggled into him. 

“We’re down to thirty-four,” Ed said finally, after a few minutes had gone by and Oswald’s breath had slowed to a series of easy, satisfied sighs. 

“Mff,” said Oswald without interest. 

“Could probably whittle it down to at least twenty-nine by the end of the night,” Ed noted. He ran a few quick calculations. “That only took fourteen minutes, and our first meeting at the mayor’s office starts at 8:00 AM tomorrow, so assuming that bedtime is 10:00 PM and allowing a thirty to forty minute cushion for snack breaks, etcetera—Yes. Twenty-nine. Thirty if we’re lazy.”

Oswald thought about telling him how silly it was to schedule everything out like that, but he resisted. After all, he liked hearing Ed prattle on; it was a little bit adorable, and it was endearing to hear the note of excitement in his voice. Oswald pulled him closer with an insistent tug and nestled against his chest. 

“Coming up with a new slew of brilliant plans already,” he sighed. 

Ed was still calculating. He narrowed his eyes, picking absentmindedly at Oswald’s hair with a few fingers in between his affectionate touches. “Then again, number fourteen and number thirty-three could take longer. Might have to adjust for those.” 

“Duly noted,” said Oswald. “As charming as your current game is, though, I think there are some different ones I’d _really_ like to try.”

Ed smirked and said, “Whatever you say, Mister Mayor.”

He gave Oswald one more soft kiss on the top of the head, and then the two of them settled into one another, enjoying the crackle of the fire and the newfound warmth of the embrace. 


End file.
